


Ruffled

by Fragged



Series: Adorable [2]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragged/pseuds/Fragged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Rush just likes touching his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruffled

**Author's Note:**

> [Sequel to [Adorable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2926172)]  
>   
>  **Warning** : This is just unapologetically stupid fluff (well, for these two, anyway). I'm sorry, but also, I'm really not.  
> I blame [SeekingIdlewild](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SeekingIdlewild) for this.  
> 

* * *

  


If there is one good thing to come out of the whole debacle, it's that Young has found the perfect hiding spot. No one thinks to look for him in Rush's quarters, and as he makes his way back to his own room late that night, he decides to store that knowledge away for when he'll need it in the future.

Rush had been surprisingly easy-going about the whole thing, and the silence between them had been companionable rather than tense. He can still feel the warmth of Rush's hand in his hair, his fingers occasionally tracing light patterns on his scalp. It had been strange, at first, but also nice. Really nice. It had been by far the least invasive or demeaning or just plain weird thing anyone had done to him today.

God, he hopes everyone will be back to normal tomorrow.

-

Young nearly sighs in relief. Apparently either his second shower this morning worked, or the alien pheromones simply lost their potency, but no matter the reason, people are back to normal.

“I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday, sir,” Greer says earnestly. He looks a little uncomfortable, standing in the door opening to Young's quarters, but Young appreciates his straightforwardness immensely.

“No need, Greer,” he says with a small smile. “I'd just as soon forget the whole thing, to be honest.”

-

Some people come up to him to apologize. James, Scott, Park, they deliver their apologies with varying degrees of proficiency and awkwardness. Others opt to pretend like nothing happened. Brody, Camile, TJ, Chloe. A few of them have a hard time making eye contact. Eli's approach is somewhere in the middle; he makes a joke about his own behavior yesterday, and then changes the subject.

Rush... Well, he's been flying under the radar. Young hasn't seen him all day, and as far as he knows, neither has anyone else. He does that sometimes. He'll pop back up again in a day or two.

Four years ago, that would have set Young burning with suspicion. Now it just calls up a wry smile.

-

He doesn't know what exactly compels him to go to Rush's quarters that afternoon.

The IOA representative who'd come aboard via the communication stones keeps pestering him with a list of questions about the dialing attempt from inside that star, asking him the same questions over and over again as if he's hoping the fifth time Young answers he'll finally find something to pin him down on, and in an unguarded moment Young slips away from him. He's sure Camile will have something to say about it later, but he played along for over two hours. Enough is enough.

He roams the corridors for a while, not quite sure where he's going, until he ends up outside Rush's door. He knocks, not expecting Rush to be in. 

And even if he is, Young thinks, there's a good chance he won't open the door.

But he is in, and he does open the door. Rush looks surprised for a second, and Young guesses he looks surprised himself, and then Rush arches an eyebrow and steps aside.

“Hiding again?”

Young gives him a smile that feels a tad sheepish, before accepting the silent invitation and entering the room.

Rush's laptop is open on the small table, and a canteen of water sits next to it. Rush was obviously working there, and it feels oddly impolite to take the only seat available. His back still hurts from spending so much time sitting on the ground, though, reading an entire book here last night. He stands around awkwardly as Rush gives him an amused look, slides into the seat, and focuses his gaze on his laptop again.

“So...” Young says.

“Yes,” Rush answers, and clearly he's enjoying this, watching Young bumble around so uncomfortably.

Fine, Young thinks, as he lets himself plop down on Rush's bed. If Rush isn't concerned with common courtesy, why should he be?

Rush doesn't look at him, but Young sees the corner of his mouth curl upwards, and a quick rush of something fond sweeps through his chest, because this is as close to friendship as he's ever come with Rush.

He should've brought his own laptop. Or some backlogged paperwork. Or another book, even.

“You mind if I take a nap?” he asks instead, because sleep is as precious and valuable as fresh food on Destiny, and if he can't work, at least he can replenish his energy reserves a bit.

He kind of expects Rush to object, or at least to react with some incredulity at his boldness, but he merely looks up from his laptop and gives him a slight smirk. “Be my guest, Colonel.”

It feels daring and audacious and a little crazy to kick off his boots and lie down in Rush's bed. Young pulls Rush's pillow under his head and curls up slightly on his side. He keeps his gaze on Rush's profile, his glasses reflecting the blueish light from his laptop screen, and tries not to feel too comfortable being surrounded by Rush's scent. He's asleep within minutes.

When he wakes up, he feels slightly disoriented. It takes him a second to realize he's in Rush's quarters. And then another one to realize that Rush is sitting on the bed with him, laptop in his lap, his left hand a comfortable weight on Young's head.

“What are you doing?” Young asks, keeping his body deliberately still as Rush continues to stroke his fingers through his hair.

“Calculating the optimal power distribution for the life support systems when the shields are under duress,” Rush answers nonchalantly, pressing a few keys on his laptop one-handedly.

That wasn't exactly what Young meant by his question, but he decides to let it go. He checks his watch to find it's only been thirty minutes since he came here. The IOA rep is probably still out there, looking for him, and he could really use a bit more sleep. And fine, he'll admit that having someone touch him like this is kind of nice, even if the someone doing the touching is Rush. It's comforting, and there really isn't that much comfort to be found aboard Destiny. So he just closes his eyes again and lets himself be lulled back to sleep.

The next time he wakes up, there's a warm presence curled around him, and his first thought isn't 'Emily', or even 'TJ', but _Who?_ before he realizes it's Rush. Rush is spooning up behind him, and that...that is taking things a bit far, surely. The hair ruffling was odd, but innocent and enjoyable enough. But sleeping like this seems like it might be crossing an unspoken line.

Maybe he should say something. Maybe he should slip out silently and never mention it again. Or maybe he should ask Rush what he wants, what this means, because that feels important.

Rush makes a sleepy sound and moves, and Young consciously has to keep his muscles from tensing up.

“So, how long is this going to last?” Rush asks eventually, as he languidly runs his fingers over the sleeve of Young's jacket. Young can feel Rush's breath tickle the back of his neck, and it's distracting because this doesn't seem innocent at all, anymore.

“What?” he asks, confusion clear in his voice.

“Camile told me about the pheromone over breakfast. How long until it wears off?”

“...It wore off this morning.”

Rush's fingers still on his arm and the silence grows heavy with discomfort. “What?”

Young feels his heartbeat speed up, and stays completely quiet.

“Then why are you here?” Rush asks nearly breathlessly, and Young thinks it's kind of impressive how he manages to sound both mortified and accusatory at the same time.

“IOA representative,” he answers, as if that explains everything, and they should really be moving now, shouldn't they? Because it feels like they're trapped in stillness, and this is quickly going from a simple misunderstanding to something neither of them will be able to talk their way out of.

“You let me... Why?” Rush asks, and Young really thinks it would be so much easier to concentrate on formulating the right answer if Rush would just take his fingers off his arm, if he'd just move back a few inches so Young would stop feeling the warmth of Rush's body radiating into his back.

He can't very well tell the truth, but then he can't think of anything less compromising either, so he goes on the offensive instead.

“You want this,” he says, and then curses his voice when it comes out sounding more like a question than the statement he'd intended it to be.

“Do you?” Rush counters. And shit, there is no right answer, or if there is, Young can't fathom what it might be, and then Rush is taking his hand away and scooting backwards, and Young realizes that _that_ is not what he wants, at least.

He turns around and puts his hand on Rush's arm, subconsciously mirroring their positions from earlier, and watches as Rush's face goes from wary to understanding, and then to something more calculating.

It shouldn't come as a surprise, but it does, when Rush leans forward and kisses him. His lips are soft and warm against him, and yes, _this_. Oh God, this is what he wants. Rush has figured it out just seconds before Young, but he's using the advantage to climb on top of him and turn the almost innocent slide of lips into something more heated, slick and wet and so incredibly consuming it takes Young a few seconds to realize he's hearing himself moan into the kiss.

The rest of the conversation plays out in sucking bites and frantically wandering touches, and by the time they're done Young feels flushed and sticky and astonishingly sated.

He's about ready to drift off to sleep again when he hears Rush snort.

“Only you would use alien pheromones to get me into bed.”

“Wasn't that kind of pheromone, Rush,” he replies sleepily.

“Just for the record, this was a ridiculous method of seduction,” Rush says, but his yawn halfway through pretty much ruins the effect.

Young tightens his arms around Rush and moves one of his hands up to brush through the hair at his nape, still slightly damp with sweat.

“That probably says as much about you as it does me, then.”

He smiles when Rush grumbles something about harebrained clods and preposterous accusations, and then presses a tired kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I like you too,” Young answers agreeably.

“Sleep,” Rush orders.

And they do.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ruffled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711514) by [nanuk_dain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain)




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